


The Corner of Vigilance

by orphan_account



Category: Undertale
Genre: Attempted Murder, Bad Parenting, Body Image, Brainwashing, Burns, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/F, F/M, Gen, Gender-neutral Reader, Gun Violence, Hate to Love, Hurt/Comfort, Innocent Papyrus, Mental Healing, Mental Health Issues, Murder-Suicide Attempt, Mutism Caused By Psychological Abuse, No Sex, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Physical Abuse, Post-Undertale Pacifist Route - "I want to stay with you.", Psychological Trauma, Queerplatonic Relationships, Reader Is Not Frisk, Reader-Insert, Sans is wary, Slow Build, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Therapy, Violent Thoughts, You two are queerplatonic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-22
Updated: 2016-07-27
Packaged: 2018-07-26 03:08:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7557802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Your name is Otto, and oddly enough, you used to be happy.<br/>You smiled very often, talked and laughed, and your diary was filled to the brim with pictures you drew, photos of friends and family, and descriptions about how perfect your life was.<br/>Then the monsters came up from the surface, and your parents had little tasks for you to do.<br/>Not doing them would lead to dire consequences, but still, you refused.<br/>Maybe these consequences were the thing that broke you.<br/>Either way, today you were determined to not fail your mission, even as that tall skeleton approached you and asked where you were going with that gun.<br/>-- </p><p>Hello! Welcome to my first x Reader fanfiction! This isn't really fluffy (mostly, I'm still a sucker for fluff) and kind of dark, and big warnings for physical, mental, and emotional abuse. Ask for tags to be added! This is Papyrus x Reader. Thanks for reading!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Much-Needed Exposition

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, and welcome to my story! This is really messed up on several different levels, so please scan the tags and avoid reading if any of these things trigger your anxiety, make you uncomfortable not within reasonable boundaries, etc. etc.
> 
> I'm Casey, pen-named Azuna, and I write a lot of dark, depressing stuff. Check my profile out for more dark, depressing stuff!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Your name is Otto, and I'm sure you know the rest.

The monsters were to blame for everything.

They were why your parents hated you now. You were an only child, and your parents gave you all of their time and attention as a child. Well, besides for work, of course. They doted on you and spoiled you just the right amount for a perfect childhood, filled with friends and birthday parties and toy cars. You really liked cars.

But, in the Summer between your junior and senior year of highschool, things changed. A small orphan child, reportedly named Frisk, fell into Mt. Ebott, a big mountain not even thirty miles from your city. All at once, all these monsters flooded the surrounding areas, especially near your home. They startled you, but you thought you could easily adjust to the change and make friends.

Your parents didn't like that attitude of yours. That happy go lucky attitude, that making-friends attitude. Not towards _monsters,_ creatures that shouldn't even be above ground to begin with. You saw their patient smiles turned strained when you mentioned bumping into a dog-like, almost liquid-like monster in the middle of the sidewalk. Instead of getting mad, the pup just gave you a big, goopy hug and went on his way. You hugged back, of course, you weren't rude!

Soon after you mentioned the Ice-Capped teenager and its friends that joined your clique, though, your father sat you down for a talk. He said that if you wanted to be a part of _his_ family, you couldn't be so buddy-buddy with "those things."

That's when they gave you your first example. Your hand was stabbed with an icicle:  _They_ stabbed your hand with an icicle. "That's exactly what these things will do to you." Your mother's harsh tone sent shivers down your spine, and you immediately dropped Ice Cap, Snowdrake, and Jerry from your clique. You didn't really want Jerry in your clique, but you understood it was a package deal.

Little examples like that are what caused you to stop talking to monsters at all. No more friendly waving to _them_ on the streets, no more tuning into Mettaton's show or watching any of the movies he starred in, no more monsters.

At first, your parents were pleased. Then, it became obvious they expected more from you. So, in the middle of your senior year. they paired you with your cousin, Penelope. Penelope was a monster-hating _expert._ She debriefed you: The two of you were going to go to Grillby's, a monster-owned bar, and burn it to the ground. You said you _couldn't,_ and your actions followed through. You hid in the bathroom the entire time. Ignoring monsters was one thing. Actively pursuing, assaulting and possibly _killing_ them was another.

Your punishment was severe. You don't like thinking about it, but for the sake of narrative...

Your mother put out a cigarette butt on your neck, first of all. That hurt like hell, and you thought that was all. You let your guard down.

Your father lit a fire on the stove and held your arm over it. The sleeve of your shirt caught on fire first, and then the rest of you. You screamed and fanned at yourself, feeling the searing flames rise and lick your skin. You reprimanded yourself for forgetting "Stop Drop and Roll," and rolled around on the kitchen floor until you were put out. Your parents just said the same thing: "That's what these things will do to you."

Your entire torso, arms, some of your back, and legs up to the knees all share the same discoloration. That scarred you horribly, both physically and mentally. Your parents didn't even take you to the hospital until you got feverishly infected.

In private, the nurse asked you what happened to do this to you. You responded with the story your parents told you to: "I was cooking eggs and accidentally set my sleeve on fire," followed by a bashful smile. You said you didn't want to go to the hospital right away because you didn't want to trouble your parents.

Those scars made you horrifically ugly, in your own eyes. At least your legs couldn't get hairy, anyways. The attempt to burn the building failed, and your cousin was arrested.

One week after your graduation, your parents had another little task for you: Run all of the monster customers out of the family-owned grocery stores. There were no signs explicitly stating  that monsters weren't allowed-- that was deemed illegal,-- but a little push in the right direction might help.

Your parents were watching as you approached a bunny-looking monster with her child. The little snow-white bunny was the cutest thing, and he blinked his tiny little eyes at you.

"I'm going to have... to... uh..." Your voice faltered. You just couldn't kick this innocent family out of the store. Why couldn't you? Why didn't you just do what your parents ask instead of being so _stubborn?_ You were an awful child, and you knew it. You just knew it.

"Nevermind." You turned around and scurried back up the steps, to the "house" part of the store, and hid in your room until you heard loud knocking.

"Otto, Otto, Otto..." Your mother tutted you and sat down on your bed. Applying extreme pressure, she raked her nails down your arm, leaving four deep, fresh cuts. 

"Every time you disobey one of us, it's like pouring salt into a fresh wound." And that's exactly what she did to you. You tried your hardest not to yell out in pain, knowing customers were downstairs. Your stuffed a corner of your comforter into your mouth and screamed into that, instead. Sweat poured off your forehead.

"I though I gave you a loving childhood, everything you could ask for. What did I do to deserve this disrespect?" Her tone was so concerned, and your heart broke. Guilt bubbled in the bit of your stomach, but you didn't apologize.

That day, you fell silent.

And today, was two months after that incident. It was a nice, not-too-hot day in August, and you had just exited the door in "casual" clothing for you. You wore long sleeves all the time now, to hide your discolored, red-beige arms from view. Your jeans were stylish, but you didn't care about that anymore.

In your bag, you carried a pistol. As you walked, you pulled it out, arms shaking. Today was the day you were going to do it. You were going to storm into that bar, Grillby's, and _just fucking shoot_ the first monster you see. You couldn't take this anymore. You didn't care if you were caught.  You were throwing your life away.

You heard big thumping footsteps behind you. They grew louder and faster as whoever got closer, but you didn't care enough to turn around and look.

"HUMAN! HELLO!" A loud, excitable voice blared behind you, and you ducked out of instinct. You slowly turned around, just outside of Grillby's, to be face to face with a rather tall... skeleton.

"I don't mean to get in your business, but!! As a citizen of this city, I must ask what you are doing with that firearm! Are you-- Oh?" Not responding, you raised the gun, arms steady, to the skeleton's face, eliciting his noise of confusion.

The door to Grillby's opened, and before you knew what was happening, you were tackled to the ground by a much, much shorter skeleton.

"Oh my God, Becky," The shorter one grumbled, "You don't just ask why people are carrying firearms. Actually, wait, that's a damn decent question. Care to explain, human?"

Unblinking, and wordless, you shook him off with force, stood up, and marched right inside the bar, hoping the two would call the police.

You felt no more compassion towards monsters. They were the ones who did this to you...

Right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Baby got back + Mean girls = Oh My God, Becky.  
> Sans.


	2. Grillby's

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You couldn't take this anymore, so you decided to shoot.  
> That doesn't turn out to be the smartest thing, and now you're face to face with an oddly nice fish warrior lady.  
> That skeleton is still trying to talk to you.  
> Your parents send you a text.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> content warnings: the normal 3 abuse tags, gun violence, suicidal thoughts
> 
> ayy I got another out so quickly don't expect this normally ok? hah <3  
> comments and critique welcome!

The second Sans suddenly ran out of the bar upon hearing his brother's voice, the entire bar fell silent. They could hear parts of the scuffle outside, and no one dared move from their spot.

When you walked in, gun clenched in your hand, the whole bar seemed to be holding its breath. The only sound that could be heard was fire crackling. You _hated_ fire. You raised it steadily, looking around for the source of the crackling noise.

Ah, the bartender. Grillby himself, you presumed. You trained the gun on him, fumbling with your fingers, trying to find the trigger. A grim smile slowly made its way across your face, you barely noticed your hands were shaking.

This was what it took to get out of the hell you were stuck in. All you needed to do was apply a bit more pressure to your index finger, just a bit more...

Why weren't you doing it? Why couldn't you do it?

Throughout all this, the barkeep remained incredibly calm. He'd stopped cleaning his glass, of course, but he just stared back at you, fire burning a bright orange. He could have ducked behind the counter, but he didn't. He wasn't scared of you. You heard tires screeching outside, and deemed it to be the police. How much time did you have left? Thirty seconds, at best.

Inhaling and exhaling deep puffs of air, you tried to get your fingers to cooperate and just _shoot_ already. You thought on all the horrible things that have happened to you over the last year, things that were caused because monsters existed above the surface. That was the cause of your parent's actions. You closed your eyes tightly, gently coercing your finger to lower on the trigger--

"NGAAAH!" You jolted, and the gun fired as you squeezed down on the trigger. However, for the second time that day, you were being tackled by a monster. The bulled lodged itself somewhere in the wall. A combat boot slammed down on your hand, the one that held the gun, but it barely fazed you. You didn't yell out, you simply released your grip, wincing at the cracking of your knuckles. The same boot kicked the gun away from you.

Your arms were pinned behind your back, and you could hear a woman's gruff voice.

"Anyone hurt?" The whole diner seemed to let out their breath at the same time at seeing the woman, who you struggled to see yourself. Her hands felt... Oddly scaly, and you were sure she was a monster.

You heard more footsteps behind you, and that loud, boisterous voice from earlier.

"UNDYNE! Did you get them?" It was the voice of the tall skeleton. He-- Well, his legs-- Came into your line of sight. He stooped down, so you could see his face. The woman, Undyne, you guessed, tightened their grip on your arms.

You strained and wiggled, of course, because this _monster_ was too close, and you wanted to be as far away from here as possible. You cursed your conscious with as much strength as you could muster, which wasn't much. You were exhausted, hurt, and disappointed with yourself; for the third time, you'd managed to be a big failure. You hoped your parents wouldn't catch wind of this.

Every other monster in this joint was staring at you. Different emotions flickered in their eyes: Fear, disbelief, anger. Disappointment. Even _they_ were disappointed in you. You were actively trying to look everywhere but the skeleton monster in front of you, and it seemed he was aware of your little game.

"Human! What were you doing?" His tone was reprimanding, but you felt no guilt. Not for a monster. Instead, you spit in his direction. Undyne let go of your arms and hoisted you up, growling in your ear.

"Oh, that is _it,_ punk. You ain't never gonna see the light of day again if you keep this up." The skeleton rose too, but not as much as you, seeing as you were literally being raised up off the ground by your collar. He just wanted to be eye-level with you, which wasn't really possible, since you were facing the woman now. She was positively terrifying, with a mouth full of sharp teeth and an eyepatch over one eye. Her skin was a vibrant blue. 

 Your parents were _right,_ this is what monsters would do to you. You hoped your shaking and sweating wasn't too visible. You were just a damn fool who couldn't do anything right. Tears pricked at your eyes as you thought on what your parents would say, what they would do. You felt like you deserved every last punishment, this time more than ever. You hoped this woman would rip you apart.

"Oh, so now you cry. Just now realizing what the hell you were about to do? Want me to feel sorry for you?" Despite her harsh words, she lowered you to the ground. Everyone in the diner started talking all at once, someone of them getting up to actively thank the fish woman. She held up a hand to quiet them, and turned towards the bartender.

"Grillby." She spoke loud, just like the skeleton. Odd. "Get this kid some water, or something. Whatever they want. On me." Your gaze turned uncertain, and you tensed. Why was she offering you something? You shook your head slightly, but it was too late. She pushed you away, turning her attention back to the crowd that had gathered around her. You began walking towards the door, promising you'd try again tomorrow. Tomorrow, you wouldn't be bugged by pesky skeletons and intimidating fish women.

You'd stumbled a bit, looking down, a bit happy that none of that attention was on you. It was nice of her to offer you something from the bar, but why? Why would she? That prior knowledge you'd kept within yourself, the knowledge of monsters being nice, vanished completely. After school, you'd shut yourself off from everyone you knew, save for your parents, choosing instead to check inventory at the store, among other business-related things. You didn't have friends anymore. The idea of someone being nice was, frankly, an alien concept.

Your gaze flitted upwards, and you just managed to stop yourself before you bumped into that skeleton again. The tall one, with the short one a bit to his left. He was so... adamant on talking to you. The short one, obviously not so much.

"HUMAN!" His volume was raised again, and he puffed out his chest, causing you to flinch. Everything made you flinch nowadays. You grit your teeth and being addressed as such, and stuck out your chin. You hoped your hatred could be seen in your eyes.

Apparently it could, because he faltered a bit, and the short skeleton turned his chilling gaze on you. You didn't look at him.

"You may not know who I am, and that's alright! I will excuse your ignorance just this once!" He called you ignorant. You clenched your fists; if you tightened anymore, you might just explode.

"I am..." He paused, just a bit, "THE GREAT PAPYRUS!" He practically screeched, before breaking out into a series of cackles that sounded a bit like "Nyeh nyeh heh heh heh!"

You crossed your arms, wincing as the hand Undyne stomped on grazed against the fabric of your shirt, and waited for him to get on with it.

Upon seeing your deadpanned expression and body language, he seemed to falter again, but hastily continued.

"I believe fate has made your plight known to me for a reason! You are in need of severe guidance, human! And who but The Great Papyrus is more suited to give you that guidance!? No one! Nyeheheh!!!" A human, maybe.  Anyone else but this extremely loud, overconfident skeleton. You weren't in need of "guidance." You just wanted to go home and go to bed.

At your lack of reply, and at the glare you continued to give him, the "Great Papyrus" shuffled from side to side, and motioned to the bar, on the other side of the room.

"Undyne has requested that you sit over there, so!" Sounded as if you were trying the "Great Papyrus'" patience. You didn't care if you got on that woman's bad side: You really hoped you did. But those two were standing in front of the door, and you were already exhausted. You just decided to comply.

You sat down at the unoccupied bar, and the flaming bartender glanced at you, as if asking what you wanted. It was awkward to be served by someone you just tried to shoot, normally, but you didn't care. You shrugged and put your head down on the counter as those skeletons sat down on either side of you.

The short one stared at you, obviously wary. "You gonna order, or...?" His tone was relaxed, and so were his words, but you could tell he didn't like you. Ah, he was sensible, at least.

You shrugged, again. You weren't thirsty, and you weren't hungry. You were just tired. Raising your head, you glanced longingly back at the door, before putting your head down again. You felt awful.

Papyrus ordered, and the other skeleton did too. You could feel the bartender reach you, fire radiating heat, and you tried not to cry. A few tears trickled down your face, and your disfigured, scarred skin seemed to tingle. You despised fire with every inch of your being.

Something cold touched your hand, and you flinched, head shooting up. The red-gloved hand of the taller skeleton was moving a bag of ice onto your injured hand and holding it there. You thought to snatch it from him and hold it there yourself, but instead, you just glared at him again. He, along with everyone else, needed to _stop_ being so nice to you. You didn't deserve that. You came in here with the intent to kill, you should be in jail by now. The tears collected at your chin, and you wiped them away.

A drink was slid towards you: Hot tea. You were much more of a coffee person, and didn't touch the cup in front of you, just staring at it as if it had offended you deeply. Your mobile phone buzzed, and you pulled it out to answer the text message you'd received from your mother.

_Mother:_ _Otto, where have you gone?_

You didn't know how to answer, instead staring down at your phone, nearly choking on the influx of tears that surged forwards. You've never lied to your parents before, and you couldn't start now. You just couldn't, even if you've had enough. Even if you would rather slice your own throat before facing another "example."

_Ottomaton: grillbys_

You stood up. This was the end of the road, there was nothing you could do except wait out your time. You couldn't do this again, you just couldn't. Tossing your phone on the counter, you reached up to your hair and began pulling out clumps, pacing back and forth in an agitated manner. Your phone buzzed again, and you turned around to read the message.

_Mother: Sweetheart, I expect so much better from you._

You began to panic. No, no no. You can't do this again. You pulled out a big clump of hair and mouthed calming words to yourself, trying to calm yourself down before you flipped out for real. Not like you already haven't.

Tears rolled down your face easily and you tried not to sob, you were already causing enough attention to yourself with your fervent pacing and hair pulling.

Papyrus stood up, and after a minute, made his way to your side. He gently pried your fingers from your hair, eyebrows furrowed in sympathy as strands came out.

"Your name... is Otto?" He spoke carefully, quiet compared to his usual tone, and you chided yourself for leaving your messages open, and for stressing as hard as you did in front of monsters.

You nodded, sniffing and moving your hand up to wipe your eyes yet again. You were a fucking mess, and you hated yourself. You _hated_ yourself as much as you hated monsters, because you and monsters both are what made your parents act the way that they did.

"Otto, are your parents not nice?" Not nice? Your parents were... Hm.

When you were a child, they were the nicest parents anyone could ask for. Sometimes, they still were. When the topic of the day wasn't monsters, they were the sweetest and most caring people... well, ever. So you shrugged.

As if reading your thoughts, the doors to the bar opened, and your parents walked in.


	3. Men's Bathroom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Your parents ruin your life, but that's normal.  
> You run to the bathroom and await your final moments, because you know.  
> After this, there's no way you can go on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoa, I cranked another one out in less than a week! Be proud of me!  
> Content warnings for: The 3 abuses mentioned before.

You felt like you were about to vomit. Your stomach kept twisting and turning as you looked into the frowning face of your mother and father, the two looking at the scene around them. Your father's eyebrows were twitching and your mother's hands were in fists, a sure sign that they were both disgusted with what they saw. The fish woman—Undyne?-- was holding arm wrestling competitions with whoever was stupid enough to challenge her. Everyone cheered every time she won, and she grinned like a maniac, showing those shark-like teeth.

Your father was a well-kept man. His dark brown hair was always combed out perfectly, and his clothes were never wrinkly. He always managed to keep his composure, even when he wasn't calm.

Your mother was similar. She dressed beautifully, and always had an unrivalled amount of... charisma. That was it, charisma. She rarely got mad, but when she did, the whole world knew it. And right now, she was mad.

"Otto!" She yelled your name, and the whole bar grew silent as she stalked towards you, black heels clicking on the ground. She struck you over the head with one of those heels once. Instinctively, you clutched onto the closest, stable thing available: Papyrus' arm. You'd used your bad hand, and instantly flinched away, blinking back tears.

He pulled you close, protectively, and in this moment, you'd much rather take this monster over your mother. She stopped with a jolt at this action, narrowing her stormy grey eyes at you, the only feature you seemed to inherit from her. The shape and color matched hers perfectly.

"Otto, I thought we raised you better than _this."_ Your father grabbed you by the arm, trying to pull you away, but you whimpered and clung to Papyrus harder. For a split second, you wished it was Undyne; she could protect anyone from anything. 

The bar seemed to let out a small breath. So this human's parents didn't condone their actions, and was here to take them back home! At least some humans up here were nice.

"I thought I told you not to hang around these... things. What were you doing here? You know what these things will do to you." Or not. Not also worked too.

You let out a small, gasping sob and shook your head quickly, curling as much as you could into the skeleton, who brushed the man's hand off of you. You should have just brought that gun to your own head instead of causing all this trouble. You were the cause of all this trouble. You were trouble. You shouldn't even be alive.

"Unhand my child." Your mother snarled at your protector, taking a step closer and jabbing a finger into his chest. "Or I will call the police."

Papyrus wasn't even fazed. "Human parental unit!" That was an odd way to address your mother, for sure. "I am sure, to you that seems like a great idea! You have your child’s best interests at heart, of course!” His tone wasn’t even strained, he spoke with unbridled enthusiasm. The tone seemed to startle your mother, while your father simply stood, listening.

“However!! As two individuals with your child’s _best_ interests at heart, I implore you to consider a different plan of action! You see, your child came here to do a not so nice thing--“

Your mother and father both glared at you, and you tore away from the skeleton’s grip and ran to the bar’s bathroom. You’re not entirely sure if you ran into the men’s bathroom or women’s bathroom, but it didn’t matter. One of your parents would get in either way.

You closed the door hard, and locked it. You began hyperventilating into your hands, trying to hold back the panic, the tears, and the overwhelming feeling that you _failed_ your parents _again._ You were just one big failure. They would know that you _failed_ what you were going to do, and it would hurt them more. That made them hurt _you_ more.

But it was your fault, and you should just go out and face whatever punishment you would be given, because it was your fault, all your fault. Your hands were shaking, and you removed them from your face.

Your knees gave way, and you crumpled to the floor of the oddly clean bathroom. You assumed that it was so clean because monsters didn't really need to use the restroom; stalls were more of a human formality. It was nice: It gave you a sanitary place to break down without being seen.

Silent sobs wracked your frame, and you heard the door to the bathroom slam shut. You stifled a squeak, and pulled yourself onto the toilet seat, wrapping your arms around your knees and _praying_ your parent didn't see you.

Footsteps echoed. The sound wasn't the steady click-clack of your mothers' heels, more of a thumping sound. Those were your father's footfalls, and you held your breath as they steadily got closer.

"Otto, come out." That was definitely your father's voice, and that queasy feeling in your stomach intensified. You didn't move from your spot, and clenched your fists so hard they turned a lighter shade. You were absolutely petrified.

You heard slamming noises. "Otto, I _said_ come out." His voice was still perfectly even and calm, and it terrified you. The slamming noises got closer and closer to your stall, until your father slammed his fists on the door of your stall.

The door flew off its hinges, leaving you there, exposed. You brought your hands to your face and hoped whatever you had coming for you would be over soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a short one! Hey my tumblr is caseycinnabon and you can tell me what you think or give me ideas and suggestions if u want,,  
> Comment + Critique are loved! You are loved! <3


	4. Police

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You done diddily fucked up  
> Well, yeah, but putting it like that makes it seem light.

You dreaded the first words that came out of your father's mouth; they were the last thing you wanted to hear.

"Otto, I'm so disappointed in you." You cringed, folding yourself up as small as you could go. Stupid, stupid, you should have just shot yourself, you can't believe how horribly this turned out. Your stomach gave one last jolt, and you jumped up, lifting the toilet seat and heaving.

Almost as soon as you were done emptying your stomach, a hand entangled itself in your hair and wrenched. You winced, spinning around as even more of your hair was ripped from their follicles. Your father looked oddly calm, which terrified you even more. With his other hand, he slammed you in the stomach, the same way he slammed his fists into the doors of the stalls, knocking the wind right out of you. You collapsed to the ground, wheezing and coughing.

"Here, I'd thought you finally learned your lesson. Even after all we've taught you, you can't do it. You still fail." Regret filled every inch of your body, seeming to take root in your heart and spiral out to your limbs. The hand in your hair pulled up, and as quick as you could be, you were back on your feet. You were forced to look in your father's calm, cold eyes, and he looked back at your tear-streaked face.

His hand detangled itself from your hair, and you allowed yourself to exhale, wiping your eyes and face with the back of your hands. Your very burned hands. Hate filled every inch of your being, for just a second, and your eyes hardened into a glare.

Then, you let it go, unclenched your fists, because there was no point to being angry anymore.

Your father must have seen that anger, though, because he, without warning, closed his hands around your throat and pushed you against the wall, tightening the grip around your neck. You sputtered and coughed and kicked, nearly getting him in the knee. You tried to push back with your hands, but your bad wrist burned and you couldn't. For the first time in months, you tried to call out, you tried to scream, but nothing came out. You couldn't. You were going to die here, weren't you? You were going to die here.

The thought was oddly calming, and you tried your hardest to succumb to the spots dancing in your vision. This was it, this was it...

 But all at once, you were let go. Gasping for breath, you slumped over, slowly lowering yourself to the ground as you clawed at your throat. You still felt his hands around it, even if they weren't there anymore. You looked down at his shoes and watched as they turned away from you. Slowly, you looked up to where he turned, craning your neck ever so slightly.

Undyne stood there, and the world seemed to dim. She brandished a blue spear with one hand, and held the other one in a clawed position, arms length from her body. She slowly dragged her hand closer to her chest, and a lavender heart slowly freed itself from your father's chest. It pulsated, like a heart, but it (obviously) wasn't the color of a heart.

You knew what that was: Everyone did. It was the SOUL. Monsters all had white souls, and humans all had colored souls, and every soul color meant something. You forgot exactly what it meant, but it had to do with personality.

She mumbled something that sounded a little bit like, "Elegance my ass," but that may have just been the lack of blood in your brain, making you imagine stuff. Elegance had nothing to do with this situation; you weren't elegant and the fish woman definitely wasn't. Your parents were, though. Maybe that was your father's SOUL, or somehing.

"You let go of that kid  right now, or I'll-- I'll--" Undyne was fuming, completely angry, and you withered under her gaze, looking down again and hoping that nothing bad happened to your father becuase of your incompetence.

"Or you'll what?" Your father answered back with perfect calm, and your entire body flushed. Your arms were shaking and you couldn't stop them, you doubted you could even stand and run at this point. You _wanted_ to run out of there. You wanted to hide under a chair or something, and never ever come out. You wanted to never move again. Tears flooded once more and you held back a whimper because your father was going to get torn to _shreds_ by Undyne and it would be your fault, and the monsters' fault, but what else is new?

"I'll gut you!" The woman growled, preparing to throw the spear at him. You could tell because her occupied arm was cocked, and she seemed to be taking aim straight for the lavender heart, the SOUL. However, a gloved hand rested n her tense shoulder, causing her to look back.

That's when your father made his move. He ran forwards and slammed his fist into her face, and she yelled, stumbling back into the skeleton standing behind her. She cursed and screamed insults, and you just looked on in horror, tears stalling and damming up behind your eyes once more. You were officially in shock.

The warrior pushed off of Papyrus and lunged, tossing the spear at your father, who stood perfectly still. The spear passed right by his form with ease, and you could practically feel the gloating smirk he must've been wearing. The skeleton that once stood behind Undyne now made his way over to you. Instantly, you stiffened, sitting perfectly still as he leaned down.

"Human!!" He, as usual, spoke with his unbridled energy, which hurt your head, which was already _pulsing_ by this point. You looked up at him wih tired eyes, and he seemed to get the general message: Tone it down.

"Er, do you want to leave? I'm sure this situation is already stressful for you, so would you like to go?" Even he was kicking you out now. Maybe he did have common sense. Tiredly, you nodded, but standing didn't sound like the best idea right now. Instead, you just lied down on the bathroom floor (very good idea!) and closed your eyes, trying to disappear that way. Besides, leaving with a monster wouldn't' help your standing with your father. Not that it mattered anymore.

Wasn't working. You could hear the fish lady yelling, you could hear their shoes squeak against the bathroom floor. You could feel the skeleton _hovering_ over you. Maybe if you laid right here for three days with no one looking for you, you could just fade away like that.

You felt a pair of gloved hands on your shoulders, and you jolted, opening one eye. The hands moved to your ribs; you were being picked up. Man, were you ever pick-uppable? You're supposed to be in college by now, why were you being picked up? You tried to dull your mind, dull your senses and just go with it, you'd be dead soon enough, but you were being taken out o the bathroom, and with all the noises going on inside the bathroom, it was obvious that the rest of the bar would be silent and that police would be called, right?

Yeah, right. The barkeeper didn't call the police, it was pretty obvious that he wasn't really the "talking" type, like you, but they were there nonetheless. Your mother was talking to the human one sweetly in her smooth voice, and some of the monsters were giving their statements. There were two police officers at the scene, a woman and her monster partner, a volcano-looking creature with the warmest smile you'd ever seen. Wait, was that a pun? Scratch that thought. It wore a cute little navy blue uniform with no sleeves, so it looked more like a cylinder that really shouldn't be taken seriously, save for the lava bubbling inside of it and threatening to pour over the sides. It looked a little sad as the monsters around it filled it in with what happened today.

Papyrus dropped you down in a chair, and you rested your head on the table, nearly knocking over a mug. The skeleton sat down next to you, and you pretended not to notice him. You tilted the head in the direction of your mother's voice, and she was glaring at you subtly. So you scooted away from the monster and sat up straight. She smiled at you and truned back towards the police woman.

Jail time was probably in your future. You pulled a gun on several people, attempted a murder-suicide, and now your book-smart father and a random freaking blue lady with gills were openly assaulting each other in the men's bathroom. You've officially ruined your life, congratulations! Every shred of remorse you'd ever felt, in that moment, turned from absolute hopelessness to unbridled rage and back again very rapidly. You didn't know whether to run out and hide or just sit there and accept your fate. You were stuck either way, so what was the point? Home wasn't any better, and neither was the public. Jail would be easy compared to this.

* * *

You're in the police car now, heading for the station to answer some questions for the police. Before you got in, (not in handcuffs) your mother made it very clear that if you answered any of the questions "wrong," severe punishment would be in your future. Whoop-de-doo, you thought, because that totally wasn't the case already. You were just going to let them year you apart.

Now you were in a room with the police woman from before and a tape recoder, ready to hold you responsible for whatever you said. This was an interrogation ,you presumed.

"Now, can you recall what happened? From the beginning. Start at home." You shrugged. You _really_ didn't feel like answering questions, you really wanted to go to bed. You really wanted to be through with everything. You were sick of it all.

"Mmm. Your mother explained that this may happen. Now, cany uo write everything down on this piece of paper?" Her tone changed, like you were some five year old that didn't know how to say large words or use them appropriately.

On the first piece of paper she gave you, you wrote:

_In the beginning, there was nothing. then, something. An atom, maybe. Or a quark. Or a God. One of those things was definitely there in the beginning, or some other thing we haven't thought of yet. My house didn't exist yet._

You pished the paper closer to her and stood up, rready to leave.

Of course, that wasn't the case, so she made you start again, specifying _exactly_ the events she wanted you to write down. So you tried again.

_Last night, I decided to go to Grillby's the next day (today) and injure a monster, then kill myself. That didn't go as planned. First, I ran into two monsters, and one of them tackled me and tried to take my gun, but he failed. After that, I went into the business and I aimed at the bartender, but I couldn't shoot._

This was sounding like a very fucked up school essay.

_Then, a fish-looking monster came in and disarmed me. Everyone started being really nice to me, and one of the two first monsters I ran into tried to ask me about my family. Soon after, my mother and father came in and tried to take me back home before the situation got worse, but I got scared and insisted on staying. My mother started talking and I ran away to the men's bathroom. My father came in and_

You decided to skip this part.

_and told me that he was disappointed in my behaviors, and then the monster woman that disarmed me from before engaged in a FIGHT with him._

Capitalizing fight showed that it was something different than a normal fistfight.

_Then, the monster from before that I ran into first and also asked me abot my family picked me up and ~~rescued~~ carried me away from the siutation.  
_

That was what happened. You threw the pen the woman gave you on the table and stood up.

The mosnters were too nice and it disturbed you. The barkeeper dropped all charges against you, beucase apparently bullets passed right through fire anyways. You weren't even being detained, an you got to go back home.

While resting in your room, you resolved to just never leave again for anything until you died.You locked the door and prayed your parents never came up the stairs, that they never finished working for the day. Your phone buzzed and you nearly threw it across the room. No one messaged you anymore, except for your parents. Why would your parents be texting you when you were right upstairs? Hesistantly, you checked the message.

_COOLSKELETON95: HELLO! ARE YOU OKAY?_

This time, you did throw your phone across the room. It didn't break, and you lamented.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and critique are encouraged!


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